Fear
She ran her hands through his hair, "So, these dark roots mean...you're dying?"
"Well, the "black of decay" as Knives so poetically put it." He attempted to smile, but it failed.
The tips of her fingers continued to play with his darken hair. Vash sighed and turned to her. He grabbed both her tiny hands in his, "I'm sorry...about everything. You must be scared of me now..."
"Oh Vash," Jessica freed her hands from his and hugged him tight. "I'm scared for you, not of you."
